


The Coffin Walkers

by Solo (SolotheTimewalker)



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-06
Updated: 2016-06-06
Packaged: 2018-07-12 14:03:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7108147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolotheTimewalker/pseuds/Solo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Work in progress</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Coffin Walkers

Prologue:

Tv Static buzzed to life in a room filled with empty beer cans and boxes. The room smelled like cheap perfume and failed dreams. The room’s walls peeled and ached with years of wear. The room was a room that held the hopeless. It held the destitute and desperate. This room, this room held the outlaws and the people trying to make it to the fantasy called tomorrow. This room held furniture that tor and crumbled, this room that stood amongst the thousands of others like it. This room sat amongst building that held its brothers and sisters like a twisted family tree. The roots had rotten away to nothing as the tree had become riddled with disease incurable and rebirth impossible. The buildings sat in row by row waiting for new tenants. Waiting for new charges like pawns on death row. They knew where they were and maybe that’s what lost them. Their minds empty and filled instead with narcotics and chemicals. Trying to fill the void where their hope had been with an artificial salvation for their distraught nation with no hope in sight. It was here in the rows of sky-seeking gravestones which kept dirt coffins that held temporary salvation in the form of seconds of pleasure which left its users exhausted and hopeless. It was here where the furnished dirt tombs which held walking corpses using drugs to make the happiness to make the pleasure last a few more minuets. It was here that a vicious cycle began with a singed contract and left with an eviction notice and a stopped beat. It was here amongst the coffins and the shadows who watched from their corners and prayed. That a tv buzzed to life with a static tone. The observers who sat idly on their deathbeds gazed in hypnotic amazement. Amazement turned to horror as the reality of the world crept in and reminded them that the world has changed. The world has change and left them behind. 

However there are the few, the few that dare to clutch on to their hope and pray for salvations. These are the revolutionists and the generals of the future. The people who will usher in a new age through ideals and movement the likes of which will shake the foundation upon which the world has built it’s temple. The few that will topple their gravestones and carry their coffins towards the people who buried them. Towards the people who killed their hope. This is the story of a group of children. A group of children who will become the next generation of heroes and messiahs. The people who will rise up will need someone to follow and while it seems impossible at the first step those who need to can climb the staircase to freedom. 

So join us, the destitute and desperate as we watch, watch the world change once more before our very eyes as we watch from beneath our coffin lids. Join us and gaze in awe at the actions of a few to change the world.


End file.
